Scientia, Veritas et Caritas
by StefanBashkir
Summary: I hope you enjoy it. It's a bit different to a lot of the fiction i've read. No magic, no Hogwarts - AU. But if you persevere you will be rewarded. I've put Harry and Ginny down as characters, but there will be others. Review are appreciated :)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 - **_**Harry**_

A sudden gust of wind forced Harry to turn up the collar of his long black coat as he strode across campus. His pace quickened, and he dug his hands even deeper into his pockets. "_Since when was it November?"_ he thought, casting his mind back to earlier in the term, specifically the beautiful day the Dursleys dumped him off at university. He chuckled at the thought of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia feigning sadness at sending him off to university, whilst surrounded by hundreds of proper sad parents. What was it Uncle Vernon had said? "Take care boy." And that was that.

He approached the door to his halls, holding the door open for a rather good looking Asian girl who caught his gaze before mumbling her thanks. That was the problem with university; it was just a bunch of fleeting glimpses into a wide and diverse range of people, none of which you really got to know properly. Christ, he'd lived in his halls for nearly two months, and he'd successfully managed to avoid two of the so-called "flat meetings" that the officious and snobby brunette felt compelled to arrange. He hadn't really seen the others he shared his flat with properly, except for the occasional pleasantries over meals, but they all seemed very friendly together.

As Harry trudged up the stairs to his flat on the top floor, it dawned on him that he was being left out. He put this down to his "no-one is worthy of my friendship" attitude. His parents died when he was younger. His father had some well-paid job in the city, whereas his mother was an actress. A car crash had put pay to both of their lives and their careers, but it was Harry who was left with their enormous fortune. Luckily, the Dursleys hadn't been able to touch it, a fact Harry went to great lengths to remind them about. Although he hadn't been able to either until a few weeks before he started university – his 18th birthday.

The key turned in the lock and Harry opened the door to the corridor, right at the same time as a small ginger-haired girl who lived in the room next to his turned hers to lock her door. "_Great_," thought Harry, trying to suppress a scowl, "_More meaningless conversation!_" As he shut the door behind him she turned and smiled politely. "Hi," she said, raising a hand in greeting. "Hey," replied Harry, repeating the gesture. As they walked towards each other, both the redhead and Harry stepped to one side to allow the other to past, and as Harry passed he could smell her perfume. It was faint and delicate, but just enough to be smelt by anyone who got that close to her. It reminded Harry of what his mother used to smell like, before she waltzed off to some swanky event or awards ceremony. Harry watched her slip out of the corridor, noting the way her slender figure moved as she strode towards the door. Now that was someone he wouldn't mind getting to know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 - Harry**

An hour and a half later, Harry threw his hands up behind his head, exhaled deeply, and arched his back. He glanced around the room that had become his home. It was small; there was no denying that, but a million miles away from the cupboard under the stairs in which he lived in for several years, until he physically could not fit in it anymore. It was decorated by a potted plant he had picked up in town and a picture taped to the wall alongside his bed. It was of his mother and father. He was too young to remember exactly when it was taken but he knew it was in Paris. Apparently his mother had a role in a film that was premiering there, and it just so happened that his father could get some time off work. It was the only photo he had of himself with his parents.

A faint knock at the door revealed the brown-haired girl. Harry wondered if she was here to remind him of an up-coming "flat meeting," or perhaps scold him for missing a lecture earlier in the day. They both did French, although Harry knew from the vast array of books that she seemed to always be carrying around with her that it was with something else. "_Law? Politics?_" he wondered as he leant back slightly and turned to face her. "What can I do for you?" he asked playfully. The girl looked back at him with an expression as if Harry had offered her something slightly unpleasant to drink. "I'm here to let you know that Madame Davis set us some reading and exercises to do, which you didn't pick up because you didn't come to the lecture." As she said this, she walked gingerly into Harry's room, stepping over the pile of dirty laundry, before slapping a small scrap of paper down on his desk. Now it was Harry's turn to look perturbed. She obviously disliked him, so why go to the effort of giving him this? "Err, thanks. You didn't have to do that?" She moved back towards the door. "There are two things that irritate me. One is when I fail, which isn't often," she looked particularly smug when she said this, Harry noted, "And the other is when others fail when they clearly shouldn't. And from what I've seen from the lectures you have turned up for, you are…" she paused, as if searching for the optimum word. "…talented in the field of Modern Foreign Languages. Aren't you doing German as well?" Harry nodded subconsciously, but he was too busy focusing on the previous words. Talented. Boy, did she know how to stroke an ego.

She muttered something under her breath and turned to leave. Harry stood up. "Hey, wait…um…hey!" She turned and glared at him "I have a name you know? I suggest you use it." Harry panicked. _Shit._ What was her name? Harriet? Henrietta? Helen? "He…" he started. She looked on at him, seemingly enjoying this display of ignorance from the dark-haired boy. Harry was still floundering. He had seen it somewhere. _Where had he seen it?_ He racked his brains. "Hermione!" he blurted out. The memory came flooding back, as he remembered where he'd seen her name. The sign in sheet for a lecture they'd had together. "Well done," she said sarcastically, "Now what do you want?" Harry swallowed before saying, "Sorry I missed the flat meeting. I was…busy." Hermione rolled her eyes, and said something which sounded vaguely like "Whatever," before disappearing into her room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Harry**

3 hours later, Harry's stomach rumbled. He glanced at the clock at the bottom of his laptop screen. 19:07. "Spose I'd better make some dinner," he said aloud to no-one in particular. As he wandered down the corridor he could hear the faint chatter of people in the kitchen. Usually Harry would have been annoyed, but for some reason, today he felt sociable. He pushed the door open and stepped in. Hermione was sat at the table in the middle of the communal kitchen, surrounded by what could only be described as the entire contents of the library. Over the hob, the small ginger-haired girl stirred a pan of red tomato-looking sauce with one hand whilst trying to tear the top off a bag of insta-rice with her teeth. She was failing to do so. "Her-ngh-io-nghe" she said, "I can't open it." She threw it down on the side and glared at it, as if she could somehow open it by magic. Without Hermione looking up from her book she pointed towards a draw on the other side of the kitchen. "I told you Ginny, just use some scissors." "_Ginny,_" thought Harry, "_that's her name."_ He really was awful with names. Ginny reluctantly trudged over to the drawer. "But it's meant to come off!" she whined."

Harry surveyed the scene whilst perched on the edge of one of the counters that ran around the open plan kitchen. His stomach rumbled again, louder this time, so he made his way across the kitchen towards the cupboard that was situated above the hob. "They're not here Hermione," Ginny said. Hermione placed her book down and Harry glanced at the book she was reading. "Contractual Law." "_Knew it,_" thought Harry, as he grabbed a Pot Noodle from the cupboard, and headed over to the kettle. However, before he could get there, the pan on the hob hissed and rattled, and the sauce began to pour out, over the top and down the sides. "Shit!" cried Ginny as she ran across the kitchen. Luckily, Harry lifted the pan up off the hob and turned the heat down and then off. "Shit!" Ginny repeated, as Harry lowered the pan onto a vacant ring. "What happened?" she said, as if it was somehow Harry's fault. "Me?" Harry said, "I did nothing! It just boiled over, that's all." Ginny's tone of voice calmed down, but was still heavy with suspicion. "Oh…well. Thanks." Harry shrugged before settling about preparing his dinner.

It was silent in the kitchen, and Harry had the distinct impression that he was the cause of this. He couldn't wait to finish his dinner and jump in bed. He yawned and stretched, as a wave of tiredness washed over him. It was always the days where you do nothing which make you feel the most tired, Harry thought, as he grabbed his fork and stirred his dinner thoughtfully. Some of the contents sloshed over the side, and Harry scooped it up with his fork, blew on it, and shovelled it into his mouth. He heard an audible groan from behind him and he smiled silently, somewhat pleased that he had elicited such a reaction from what he could only assume was Hermione. Pot Noodle preparation complete, he picked it up, more carefully this time, and headed to the door, murmuring a goodbye to the pair of girls as he went. Back in the comfort of his own room, he drew the curtains before settling down for dinner. Now wasn't this what university life was meant to be like?

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**A/N: Thanks to Kayla for going over this for me. Got lots more chapters written up but spacing them out for uploading. Hope you like them**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 - Hermione**

Hermione couldn't tell whether or not she was happy to see the sun glint above the horizon, bathing the campus in the light that heralded morning. Ever since she had moved here she had barely been getting a decent night's sleep, and tonight was no exception. She had tossed and turned until half past two in the morning, drifting in and out of sleep, but always failing to drop off completely. She had had no choice but to head to the library and dive into a book or two. The library on campus was open all day, but from midnight till 7am it was students only. It's floors filled with those who forgot about that essay that needed doing, or the nerds who filled every hour with studying. It was the latter group that Hermione fell into. She had grabbed a pile of books from where they were neatly stacked in the corner of her room, and silently made the short walk across the campus to the grand old library building. There were sections of the library practically taken over by swarms of students, relying on energy drinks to get them through the night, and then there were areas for people like Hermione. And it was in one of these areas that she watched the sun rise over the buildings, and where she had set her book down and basked in the warmth of it as it touched her face. She gathered her things together and trudged back to the flat. The stupid thing was, Hermione thought, that now she felt that she could sleep for a year. She slipped off her backpack and flopped, fully clothed onto her bed. Her lecture wasn't for several hours so if she managed to catch up on some sleep, then it wouldn't matter too much. As Hermione lay there, she could almost feel her eyelids start to droop...

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Oversleeping and Harry Potter had become a bit of a routine during university. And that was why he was currently sprinting to his first lecture of the day, a rather tedious one on French grammar, with an equally tedious French lecturer. Bursting through the door of the block that housed the lecture theatre, taking the stairs three a time as he went, Harry cursed himself for not grabbing something to eat; he was so hungry. He hoped that Madame Davis hadn't turned up yet, and that he could slip in un-noticed. He ruffled his hair trying desperately to control his hair, which refused to sit nicely on his head. He opened the door and was immediately glared at by the lecturer, and every single first year who studied French. "Désolé d'être en retard," he muttered before finding a space near him on the back row and taking his seat as quickly as he could. He pulled a pen out from his pocket and hastily caught up on the notes that were written on the board. As he did so, he scanned the room around him. He vaguely recognised some of the people lower down in the theatre, but no-one near him, and definitely no-one on his row. He sunk deeper into his chair and shut his eyes whilst still trying to pay attention to the lecturer. However his rest was interrupted by the door behind him opening, and someone bustling in, bursting out in the same feeble apology Harry had said. His eyes were still closed, and he opened one slightly, and damn near burst out laughing.

* * *

Mortified didn't even come close to how Hermione was feeling. Her catnap had turned into a deep slumber, and it had made her late. She was never late. Never. Flustered and panicky she set her things out on her desk and tried to get some assemblance of what was written on the board. Somewhere around her she heard giggling. Hermione looked around, and immediately wished she hadn't. Of all the seats to choose, why did she pick the one next to Harry Potter?! He had obviously found the fact that Hermione was late to the lecture amusing. She tried to focus on her work, but Harry was passing her a note. It read "Unlike you to be late?" Hermione frowned. His sarcasm was evident even on this scrap of paper, so she chose to ignore it. A few minutes passed and she found Harry passing her another note. She looked annoyed and shot him a withering glance. The note was folded this time, and unfolding it Hermione read "Two rows down, left hand side." Hermione looked at Harry, confused by his message but he only pointed in the direction of where he had indicated. She looked over and immediately stifled a giggle. A boy was fast asleep, his head laying straight across his work. She looked at Harry and grinned. The tension seemed to have gone between the two, and Hermione felt relieved. She didn't want to have had to chase this boy all year in order to get him to to his bit for the flat. In the past two months he'd been like a ghost. They all knew he was there, but they hardly noticed him. Harry had made a start on the exercise that Madame Davis had written up on the board, and Hermione spied on his answers. _Très bien_ she thought. Hermione knew that she was perfectly capable of doing the work herself, but she was constantly amazed by the boy's ability with the language. She sighed, yawned slightly and went back to her work.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 - Ginny**

Meanwhile, Ginny Weasley stretched her legs and yawned widely. She had an essay to do, but bed seemed like such a better idea. Turning over, she snuggled her face deeper into the pillow and pulled the duvet up and drew it tightly around her. Ginny drifted in and out of sleep. _How come bed felt so much better in the morning than in the evening?_ She pondered this as she rolled over, spying her netball kit screwed up in a ball. She had played it in secondary school and had known before she had started university that she wanted to play for the team. So, during the sports fair, the netball team were holding try-outs for the team. Ginny was nervous, but she had given it her all and was pleasantly surprised to be called back later that week. The captain had said that the girls were just going to play continuous games, and that if you were tapped on the should, then you unfortunately hadn't made the team. Slowly but surely the group dwindled down until there was about a dozen or so young girls left. Ginny had felt sure that she wasn't going to be picked, but they had in fact all been selected for the first year team. Ginny smiled at the memory. She loved nothing more than the feeling she got when the ball went through the hoop, the feeling when she won. Reluctantly Ginny dragged her small frame from her bed. The sports psychology degree she was doing was really interesting and she was enjoying it immensely. Unlike Hermione, she knew how to balance work and play. She chuckled at the memory of wandering back to the flat, drunker than she had ever been before, and walking in on Hermione studying. It must have been at least 3am. _Does she ever stop studying_ thought Ginny, as she opened the book nearest her, and attempted to make sense of the words that were printed on it

Ginny glanced at a clock that sat on her desk_. Christ! _she thought, she'd been studying for nearly two hours, and decided to reward herself with something to eat. She made her way to the kitchen, and set about making herself a sandwich. The flat was quiet and Ginny was relived. It gave her the opportunity to get her mind free of the terminology and facts that had filled her head. She munched thoughtfully on a piece of lettuce and glanced out of the window. Both Harry and Hermione were walking back from their lecture. If she had a pound for every time Hermione had told her how annoyed she was at that mysterious dark-haired boy, then maybe she could afford to go to university. She'd gotten a sports scholarship for her netball, but also because she was the first from her family to go to university. No brothers and sisters meant that Ginny often wondered how her parents were coping without her. Ginny watched as Harry held the door open for Hermione, and the mountain of books she was carrying, and the two of them made their way inside the building. What seemed like only moments later, a rather flustered looking Hermione burst into the kitchen. "Alright 'Mione?" Ginny enquired, getting to her feet and moving over towards the work top to clear up her stuff from lunch. Hemione shrugged and mumbled something which Ginny swore contained the words "bloody Harry Potter." "What was that?" she said, "I didn't quite catch it?" Ginny said in a sing-song voice. "I said I'm sick of that bloody Harry Potter!" Hermione said angrily, "One minute he's being a total arse, and the next he's trying to be all friendly." Ginny looked confused. "Did he hit on you?" she wondered aloud. Hermione shook her head, "No! We just sat next to each other in French and he was trying to make small talk. Quite irritating." She looked around the kitchen for something, "And why isn't there any butter!" she shouted to no-one in particular. Ginny handed it to her from where she had put it whilst tidying away, and Hermione muttered her thanks. Ginny had seen angry a few times, but today seemed to be different. Harry had suddenly decided to be part of the flat, and Hermione didn't like that. Ginny smiled to herself. Things were going to get interesting.

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**A/N: The chapters seem to be getting longer. Do you prefer long or short chapters? I try to write it in short bite-sized bits so that there isn't too much text on one page, but let me know what you prefer. Also, what do you think of the POV way I'm writing this? Exciting Ginny/Harry bits to come! *spoilers* XD**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - Harry**

The afternoon passed without incident. Harry noticed that in the remaining lecture that he and Hermione shared, that she appeared to sit as far away from him as physically possible. However, his mind was elsewhere. Tonight was Friday night, and Harry couldn't wait to get out. He had joined the football club, and was waiting for them to announce the dates of trials for the first year team. Tonight was the monthly football social, and they were doing a pub crawl. _What's the worst that could happen?_ thought Harry.

Shortly after 7pm that night, Harry walked into the first pub on the list that had been posted on the football notice board. They would get the full list of bars and pubs that they all had to visit here, as well as what drinks they had to drink where. The first thing Harry noticed, was that there was an enormous amount of girls in the pub. Confused, he spied one of the guys he recognised from training, Dean Thomas. "Alright Dean," said Harry, shaking his hand and joining him at the bar, "Lot of women about dontcha think?" Dean chuckled but didn't look at Harry. He seemed to be scanning the crowd of long hair, nice faces and great legs. He turned towards Harry. "Haha, yeah. Didn't you hear about the surprise? It's a joint social - with netball!" Now it was Harry's turn to laugh, as the first team captain, revered by the freshers for his abilities both on and off the field stood up. Oliver Wood was well built and burly, and had a commanding presence amongst the team. He stood on top of a table, with a pile of papers in one hand, and more ominously in the other, several rolls of duct tape.

"Welcome everyone to the Football and Netball Pub Crawl!" he announced. There were manly cheers from the footballers, with more reserved ones from the girls. "And for added fun, tonight each of you will be paired together, and tied together like in a three-legged race." Shocked gasps erupted around the room, mostly from the girls, as Oliver explained what exactly would happen. Both the clubs would assign numbers to each of their members, and then each pair would come forward to be tied together around the ankles. Harry turned to look at Dean, who was now focussing, not entirely subtly, on the crowd of girls on the other side of the pub. Harry nudged him hard in the ribs, and that seemed to break him from his trance. "So?" Harry said, "Take your pick!" Dean laughed and replied, "Yeah, but it's all luck, what if she's ugly?" Harry turned to him and gave him a serious look, "I bet she'll have a great personality." Oliver Wood was near them and had started counting. Dean was 10 and harry 12, separated by a rather loud Irish boy. Each quy was now trying to work out who they were paired with, as the netball captain did the same with the girls. Slowly but surely, each number was called forward, and the pair hobbled off to get acquainted. Dean got a rather plain looking girl called Lavender, so he didn't seem that disappointed The Irish boy got paired with an equally nice girl, but you could see from the look on her face that she wasn't too pleased about this. And then it was Harry's turn. "12" called out Oliver Wood loudly, pulling off a length of tape. Harry shuffled through the crowd, but someone caught his ankle from behind. Great jeers went up from the crowd as Harry jumped back to his feet. As he turned around, he was confronted by a sight he hadn't expected to see. Standing there, with an equally shocked look on her face, was the short red-haired girl from his flat. Ginny Weasley.

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**A/N: I know how much you all love a good cliff-hanger. Hope you're looking forward to hearing more about this story. Keep the reviews coming! SB**


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